


Where the Jackalopes Roam

by smalltrolven



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Case Fic, Creature Fic, Hair Braiding, Haircuts, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Schmoop, Season 11, rehab sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 12:48:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6855322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smalltrolven/pseuds/smalltrolven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something is attacking but not killing hikers in Sedona, Arizona. Sam and Dean need an easy monster hunt for a distraction from the Darkness. Could this be the time they actually go to the Grand Canyon?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Not my characters, only my words. Written for the 2016 SPN Case Fic MiniBang. I was so thrilled to get to work with sketchydean for this story, the picture is even better than my imagination. [The Buckey O’Neill Cabin](http://www.grandcanyonlodges.com/assets/Buckey-ONeill-Suite-1.jpg)is a real place I’ve always wanted to stay in. Set sometime after episode 11.14 “The Vessel.” Thanks for great beta work,, vyperdd, much appreciated! 
> 
> Please go check out the [Art Masterpost right here.](http://sketchydean.tumblr.com/post/144383533776/spn-case-fic-minibang-where-the-jackalopes-roam)

~~**&&^^&&**~~

_Forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair.  ~Kahlil Gibran_

They were going stir-crazy in the Bunker, both of them in their own unique ways. Sam was poring over the minimal information they had found on the Darkness. Dean was tidying up after the mess Lucifer had made of their files. Both were trying not to think about Cas’ inexplicable choice and what it might mean for the whole world.

Just to distract himself, Sam did his usual perusal of the news of the weird websites and found a story about hikers being badly bitten by antlered creatures, but not killed in Arizona. He looked up the dates and saw that it seemed to maybe coincide with the moon cycle, but the incidents were occurring only on half moons.

“Hey, uh, Dean? You still in here?” Sam asked, poking his head into the door of the main file-room.

Dean didn’t answer, but Sam heard a small grunt and a box dropped heavily onto one of the tables. He stepped into the room and saw his brother holding a stack of files and shaking his head. He had his headphones on though, so he hadn’t heard him come in. Sam leaned against the wall and watched him work, the muscles in Dean’s back and arms visible even under the t-shirt and flannel. The light in the room seemed to gather itself to Dean, highlighting himself as if he was in a painting. Sam shook himself out of his reverie when he noticed Dean was grinning at him from across the room. _Damn…caught out again._

Dean took off his headphones and thumbed off his iPod. “Something up?”

“Might have caught us a case,” Sam said, relieved that Dean wasn’t taking the opportunity to tease him this time.

“Oh thank god,” Dean said, dusting his hands off vigorously. “Tell me all about it in the car?”

“You really want to just leave without hearing it?” Sam asked, surprised at Dean’s answer.

“I trust ya, Sammy. And we need to get the hell outta Dodge for a while, you know? If I spend one more minute in here with this damn mess of papers you’re gonna have to drop me off at the loony bin.”

“Well, give me a few minutes to pack. I wasn’t expecting you’d want to just take off,” Sam said, turning to leave.

“Sam?” Dean asked before he was out the door.

“Yeah?” Sam said, turning back to find Dean was already in his space, crowding him up against the door hard enough to close it. He switched off the lights and leaned into Sam, encircling him in his arms. Sam’s body automatically responded to Dean’s, pulling him in close to align their bodies. He was about to ask Dean what he wanted, but was interrupted by Dean’s lips assaulting his own. Dean kissed him strong and insistent, no more questions between them about whether this was what they wanted. It was what they both needed. Dean kissed him for a long time, achingly thorough as if he was re-learning Sam’s favorite way of being embraced.

They finally pulled apart to breathe, both of them hard in their jeans.

“What was that for?” Sam asked. “Not that I’m complaining.”

Dean didn’t answer him, just sank to his knees in front of Sam and rubbed his cheek against Sam’s hardness. Sam was shocked by the wordless efficiency that Dean had him out and swallowed down. Dean’s fingers stroking him behind his balls just the way he liked, a finger almost pressing inside, teasing just around his rim.

Sam braced himself against the door with one hand and the other found its way to the top of Dean’s head. He held Dean in place and thrust forward a few times to see how much Dean could take. Dean’s response was to suck harder and swallow him deeper, his eyes glittering in the darkness of the file-room. All Sam could feel was the places Dean was touching him, the heat of his brother leaching into him through his hands on his ass, his arms around his hips and his mouth, and oh god, his hot hot mouth all over him. Sam’s hand tightened on top of Dean’s head as he came, moaning Dean’s name on one long exhale.

One of Dean’s hands left Sam’s ass and began moving in the darkness, Sam could hear the quickening pace of Dean’s hand. He reached down to pull Dean up, who came willingly and leaned into Sam’s side. Sam’s hand joined Dean’s, adding to the friction, stroking Dean off hard and fast until he came, the sound of it hitting the floor drowned out by Dean groaning several expletives along with Sam’s name.

Dean’s breathing slowed down a little and he nosed along the bottom of Sam’s jaw.  “That was what we call, ‘one for the road,’ Sammy,” Dean answered the question that had been asked what seemed like a very long time ago.

“You’re not going to fall asleep while you’re driving, right?” Sam asked, chuckling quietly as he pressed his nose into the hair behind Dean’s ear.

“Nah, now I’m so relaxed I might even let you drive,” Dean answered, slapping Sam surprisingly hard on the ass.

~~**&&^^&&**~~

“So, you said we’re headed for Arizona, right?” Dean asked as they pulled out of the Bunker’s garage into the bright Kansas winter morning.

“Yeah, Sedona. It’s hard to tell what we’re really hunting from the description of the people who’ve been attacked. At first I assumed it would be a chupacabra, but the victims are saying it had antlers and hopped like a rabbit.”

“That totally sounds like a jackalope to me, but those are just made-up for the tourists, right?” Dean asked.

“As far as I know. There are folk stories that people have told about them, how you can bait them with whiskey and that you can only catch them while they’re mating during electrical storms.”

“Sounds like the killer rabbit from that Monty Python movie. With bonus antlers though,” Dean observed.

“But the bite marks and venom poisoning that’s happening sounds more like chupacabra,” Sam said, after checking his notes.

“So, we’re hunting a chupalope, then?” Dean said, grinning at his own cleverness.

“No, no it’s not. That sounds like one of those Mexican lollipops we used to get in gas stations in the Southwest. It’s my turn to name this one, remember you got to do the werepire?” Sam asked, “I think jackacabra sounds more badass.”

“Well, let’s wait until we see the thing, see which one fits it better,” Dean said, grinning at the memory of the werepire and how well that name had suited them, then frowning as he remembered all the damage those damn things had caused to Baby.

~~^^&&**&&^^~~

Midnight on the night of the half moon found them chasing the thing alongside a swiftly moving Oak Creek, which should really be a river not a creek with so much water, at least according to Dean. Earlier that evening they’d already saved a couple of hikers who were late in exiting Crescent Moon Park. The creature had been following them, but was interrupted by the brother’s appearance. The thing was fast, but it made a lot of noise when it crashed through the brushy undergrowth near the river so they could follow it pretty easily. Luckily the hikers were smart and ran in the opposite direction.

Once they caught a good look at it in their flashlights, huge antlers for its size as well as the ugly chupacabra-goat-wolf-type of body, Dean insisted on calling it a chupalope.

“It’s totally more chupacabra, it has the whole body, the only difference I really saw was the antlers,” Dean said, running along the flat expanse of river-smoothed red rocks.

“Dude, it is still my turn to name something. Jackacabra sounds much more badass, like I said the first time, Dean,” Sam answered, following close behind his brother. While they ran alongside the river, they continued to fight over the name, the thing darted forward and took a chunk out of Sam’s calf.

“Shit! It bit my leg!” Sam yelled, stopping abruptly and turning in a circle with his flashlight to see if the thing was still within range.  “How did it double back on us? I just heard it up ahead, didn’t you?”

Dean reached him in a few steps and steadied Sam as he sank into a crouch. “Damn it all, Sam! I told you that shorts are always a bad idea!”

“It seemed like it was going to still be hot out tonight, so sue me!’ Sam gestured at his bleeding leg. “Just help me stop the bleeding and stop yelling so we can hear which direction the thing runs away,” Sam said, tugging at Dean’s wrist to keep him close.

  
“It better run, it just bit you for no good reason. I’m gonna kill it!” Dean yelled one last time then sank to his knees next to his brother.

“I’m thinking it probably knows we’re here to take it out, so it has a pretty good reason to be on the attack.”

Dean examined Sam’s wound with the help of his flashlight. “Youch, you’re lucky, dude. The thing damn near got your Achille’s tendon.”

“That would have left me hamstrung,” Sam joked.

“I’m not even acknowledging that as a joke. Were you raised by chupalopes or something?”

“For the last time, it’s jackacabra, and no, I was pretty much raised by _you_. You have only yourself to blame buddy,” Sam said.

“How do we kill the damn thing? Just pretend it’s a chupacabra and go at it like usual? Or is there something special we’re supposed to be doing?” Dean asked.

“You really weren’t listening earlier in the car. I don’t know why I ever bother reading all that shit out loud to you. Why do you ask me to go over it if you’re not even going to listen, Dean?”

“Maybe I just like to listen to your dulcet tones, Sammy,” Dean said with a grin as he leaned forward to tie a bandana around the bloody wound.

“Dulcet tones?” Sam asked with a laugh in his voice.

“I do know words, Sam. And what you said in the car, when I was listening very closely did not sound very specific on how to kill these damn things that shouldn’t even exist in the first place.”

“As you well know, most creatures do not come with an instruction manual. Two legendary creatures, maybe somehow mated and there’s a whole new beastie to hunt down. I’m going to guess it’s got some elements from both sides of the family,” Sam said.

“I’ve never hunted jackalope, as far as we know, nobody has. Chupacabras, sure those are pretty easy as long as you don’t get bitten. But…” Dean gestured at Sam’s blood-covered sock.

“There isn’t much at all about the jackalope to be researched. I honestly didn’t think it was a real thing. Everything I’ve ever read said they were just tourist trap inventions,” Sam said, readjusting his sock to help hold the bandana in place.

“Yeah, I always thought it was just people with too much time on their hands, getting bored with the usual weirdo taxidermy poses. A lot of those things have a basis though, once we look hard enough for it,” Dean said. “And just to be clear, I’m not saying that you didn’t look hard enough, Sammy.”

Sam grinned at Dean because of the softness in his brother’s gruff voice. “The only things I remember from the jackalope tall tales I read was that you can bait traps for them with whisky. And that they can only be caught when they’re mating. During electrical storms.”

“Well, that damn thing already got a piece of you. It’s not getting my whisky too. And I damn sure don’t want to have to catch that ugly thing while it’s mating.”

“Dean, we’ll go buy the cheapest bottle we can find and use that, instead of the good stuff. How about that?”

“Can you feel the venom spreading yet?” Dean asked, avoiding the topic of wasting whisky on this stupid beast.

“Uh…yeah, it’s starting to go numb already. I could use some help up this hill,” Sam admitted.

Dean didn’t say anything, just secured his arm around Sam’s waist and pulled most of his weight onto him. “Hope that sucker leaves us alone until we get back to the car.” He made a sweep with his flashlight most of the way around them.

“See anything?” Sam asked, leaning more heavily on Dean as the slope of the hill increased.

“No—wait, what’s that?” Dean yelled, the flashlight dropped as he drew for his gun, abruptly letting go of Sam. He fired as something rushed towards them, many feet scrabbling in the rocky hillside. Sam overbalanced and fell backwards down the hill with a cry.  The flashlight bounced crazily as it rolled towards where Sam had come to a crumpled stop.

Dean felt something brush by his leg and he slashed downwards with his knife, the creature cried out with a guttural squawk. It seemed to rush past him again in the dark, the sounds moving away down the hill towards where Sam had fallen. He heard Sam cry out in pain, so he fumbled in his pocket for his cell phone and turned on the flashlight app. He shined it around him and didn’t see any movement in the small circle of illumination.

“Sam? You okay down there?”

“No, it got me again, in the other ankle this time. And now I can’t really stand up,” Sam’s pained voice floated up through the darkness between them.

“Hang on, I’m coming back down,” Dean said. He picked his way down the steep slope, knife at the ready, not wanting to shoot anywhere near Sam in the dark.

When he reached him, Sam was trying to staunch the bleeding on his other leg with his own bandana. Dean reached forward and tied it tightly for him. He then squeezed Sam’s calf, but there was no response in his foot. “It looks like the tendon is cut this time. Shit. Okay, I’m gonna help you outta here, and we’re going to the hospital.”

“No, we have to get this thing, Dean.”

“Sammy, you can’t walk, and you don’t have any ankles left to bite. What if it gets me, how am I supposed to help you walk then?”

“Fine,” Sam grumped, trying to stand up and falling into Dean’s shoulder.

“Besides, I slashed the thing pretty good. It’s probably off somewhere licking its wounds,” Dean said, beginning to sound out of breath from all the hill climbing and brother supporting.

“Let me hold the flashlight, and you let go of me if it comes at us again,” Sam said.

They made their way the rest of the way up the steepest part of the slope to the top. Sam hopping as best he was able to while Dean supported him and kept them both balanced. They were both happy to see the Impala glinting at them in the moonlight.

“There’s my girl! See, you’re gonna be okay,” Dean said.

“Dean, I hear…” Sam said, swinging around with the flashlight beam behind them. Lit up and highlighted, the beast’s red face was terrifying. The glowing red eyes and yellow pointy teeth didn’t help much either.

“Dean!” Sam yelled, holding the light steady as the beast charged.

Dean let go of Sam and leaped forward with his knife at the ready. He slashed through empty air as the creature dodged, then he made solid contact in its side as it attacked again. It pinned Dean down, standing on his chest and was reaching for Dean’s throat with open jaws as the flashlight beam went wild up into the sky and a gunshot boomed in his ears. The beast made a small wounded noise and rolled off of Dean’s chest.

“Shit! Thanks Sammy! Follow it with the light!” Dean yelled, leaping back to his feet.

Sam steadied the light along with his gun and swept the hillside. They could see the thing almost disappearing into the bushes at the base of the hill. Dean fired several times and the thing fell over, spasmed a few times and was still.

“Think I got it?” Dean asked, panting heavily, leaning forward to brace himself on his thighs.

“Looks that way,” Sam answered, panting just as heavily, seated on the ground, grimacing at the pain in both of his legs.

“I better go check, stay here,” Dean said, scrambling back down the hill.

Sam could hear a few more shots ring out, then Dean’s footsteps approaching again. But he also heard loping footsteps from the direction of the car. Smaller ones, that were moving fast towards him. He brought his gun up and fired towards the noise, hoping that it wasn’t going to hit the car. Whatever had been coming for him fell heavily and rolled down towards Dean.

“Watch out below! I think I hit something, Dean,” Sam yelled.

“Holy crap! You got another one, Sammy! There were two of these suckers!” Dean yelled back.

Sam could see the warm glow of the flashlight nearing closer and closer, Dean’s familiar grunts and noises making him smile. He tried to stand up, but had to wait for Dean’s help. Dean wrapped his arm around Sam’s waist and steadied him across the dusty pullout towards the Impala. Dean got him sitting in the front seat with a towel wrapped around both legs. They pulled out in a cloud of red dust, leaving Oak Creek and Sedona behind.

“You’re not going to burn the bodies?” Sam asked.

“Naw, we gotta get you to a hospital. The sooner the tendon can get repaired the better off you’ll be. And it’s close to an hour up to the hospital in Flagstaff.”

~~^^&&**&&^^~~

As Sam went into emergency Achilles tendon repair surgery, Dean explained to the nurse filling out the forms about the javelina that had attacked them while they’d been out for a night hike. She seemed to buy it, as well as their faked insurance. Thankfully, he didn’t have too long to wait for Sam to be through with surgery. It wasn’t a life-threatening thing this time, but any surgery was still a risk. He was there when Sam was waking up in recovery, having sweet-talked the nurse into letting him even be in the room, ready with the post-surgery ice-chips.

Sam smiled when he saw his brother napping in the chair next to his bed. He hated to say or do anything to wake him up, but then his IV began to beep with a loud alarm. Dean’s eyes flew open and Sam was reminded all over again that the green of Dean’s eyes was never more intense than when they were focused on making sure that he was okay. Luckily, he’d gotten over that being annoying and just enjoyed the attention.

They had moved out of the hospital after just a few days, and Sam was working hard on recovering, going to physical therapy every other day. He got bored in their small motel room when the only thing to do was watching Dean flip through daytime television and insisted on having access to his laptop. That was when he finally checked the news for the first time in a week.

“So get this, Dean. I’m pretty sure the jackacabras followed us, they were attacking people in a park near the hospital the two nights after I had my surgery.”

“So they stopped when the half moon was over?”

“Seems like it,” Sam says.

“How could they follow us though? It was almost an hour’s drive up here from Sedona,” Dean asked.

“I don’t know how they could track us through the desert that far, or that fast.”

“Guess the regular bullets didn’t do the trick on ‘em, huh?” Dean said, obviously already making plans to go out and hunt the things down himself.

“You’re not hunting them on your own, Dean. No way,” Sam said with a finality Dean knew he couldn’t argue with.

“I know. But you’ve got at least a week of recovery time to go.”

“Can we go somewhere then? I’m so damn tired of just sitting around here in Flagstaff,” Sam said. “And I think I’ve got a handle on the PT stuff now.”

“We haven’t been this close to the Grand Canyon in a while,” Dean said.

“I’m still on crutches, Dean,” Sam said, gesturing at the crutches propped up against the wall on his side of the bed.

“I know, and I already checked, they’ve got all kinds of wheelchair accessible stuff there,” Dean said. “C’mon, you’ve always wanted to go.”

Sam smiled, touched that his brother had thought to look that up for him.  “Where are we going to get ourselves a wheelchair though?”

“Already got that covered. Nancy, the rehab clinic receptionist sold me a used one for a real cheap price yesterday.”

“Will it even fit in the trunk?” Sam asked.

“It’s already in there, ready to go,” Dean said with a self-satisfied grin.

Sam smiled again. How could he not smile? Dean had already planned out this whole trip as a diversion, knowing in advance that Sam would be getting antsy around this time in his recovery.

“Are we camping or did you book us a room?” Sam asked.

“You will just have to find out when we get there,” Dean said.

~~^^&&**&&^^~~

 


	2. Chapter 2

~~**&&^^&&**~~

  


 

The drive up to the Grand Canyon took a little more than an hour and Dean seemed to be having a harder and harder time controlling his grin. Sam noticed of course, and it made him smile even more himself. His brother had something sneaky planned, obviously. But Sam sure as hell wasn’t going to spoil the surprise, Dean was having too much fun. And he needed it. They both did.

 

They paid their fee to enter the Grand Canyon National Park and kept driving as the sun set and it changed to full dark, the anticipation both of them felt increasing the closer they came to the actual canyon itself. It had been one of those things they’d always said they’d do, but life had always intervened. This felt like a different kind of trip for them, not momentous, but important somehow. Like they were finally taking the time to have a life together, even though all the crap was still happening around them. It would always be happening, they’d at least learned that lesson. 

 

“Dean are we really staying in the park?” Sam finally asked.

 

“Looks like it,” Dean answered with a grin that he tried to hide.

 

They pulled into the parking lot for something called Bright Angel Lodge. All the lights were on, it looked cheery and welcoming compared to the dark night.

 

“You stay here, until I get our room situated,” Dean said through the car window. 

 

Sam huffed a little in protest.  

 

“Hey, I want you to save your energy for what’s coming later,” Dean said, waggling his eyebrows obscenely.  Sam couldn’t help but laugh at that.  “Fine, I’ll just sit here like a bump on a log.”

 

“A very sexy bump,” Dean said over his shoulder as he walked away.

 

Soon Dean was parking and helping Sam out of the car with his crutches. He led the way with one of their duffle bags to a large cabin that seemed to be perched on the very edge of the canyon itself.

 

“Welcome to the Buckey O’Neill cabin,” Dean said, unlocking the front door and standing back so that Sam could crutch his way through. He opened the back door that looked out onto the dark night sky over the canyon.

 

“Wish we could see it, I know it’s right there,” Dean said gesturing towards where the canyon had to be.

 

“Tell me you didn’t pay the rack rate for this room, Dean,” Sam said, as he leaned against the closed room door.

 

“Give me some credit, wouldja? I got a good deal on this place. I know a guy, okay?”

 

“It’s going to be spectacular in the morning with the view. I can’t wait to see it,” Sam said, leaning against the open door and looking out at the dark canyon with Dean.

 

Dean turned to look at Sam with a strange expression Sam couldn’t place. “It’s already spectacular,” Dean said with his eyes only for Sam.

 

Sam rolled his eyes at the unexpectedly sweet praise coming from his brother. Compliments like these were uncomfortable because they were so rare.

 

“Hey, don’t roll your eyes, Sammy. I mean it,” Dean said, one hand curling around Sam’s wrist. 

  
Sam searched Dean’s face to see if he was kidding and only saw honesty and earnestness there. He nodded and tried his best to smile.

 

Dean reached out and traced Sam’s lips with one gentle finger. “That’s better.”

 

Sam couldn’t resist and licked at Dean’s finger, sucking it into his mouth. Dean groaned almost instantly, making Sam smile around Dean’s finger in triumph. He set right back to sucking the finger even deeper into his mouth.

 

“You’re killin’ me here, Sammy,” Dean breathed out. He closed the door of the cabin, locked it and helped Sam over to the bed. The beautiful wooden bed creaked as they settled on top of it. It was enormous and very comfortable. Dean arranged himself over Sam and set to kissing that delicious smile. They kissed and caressed each other for a longer time than usual. It had been a long couple of weeks without this.

 

“Missed this, Dean,” Sam murmured between kisses.

 

Dean didn’t answer, but slid off the bed and rustled around in the duffel bag he’d brought in. He turned out all but one light and returned to stand next to the bed, holding something in his hand.

 

“That for me?” Sam asked.

 

“No, it’s for me. Uh…I mean, for you to use  _on_ me.”

 

“Better get those clothes off then,” Sam said, eyes tracing up and down Dean’s body in a possessive slow crawl. 

 

Dean could feel himself blushing at Sam’s words and was suddenly glad that there wasn’t too much light on in the cabin. He took his boots off first and began to undo his jeans, but he was stopped by one of Sam’s gigantic hands curling around his upper thigh. 

 

“Let me,” Sam said, he reached up and unbuttoned Dean slowly, caressing each amount of skin revealed. “Commando again, huh?”

 

“Haven’t gotten around to doing much…unf,” Dean said, shocked into silence by Sam’s lips wrapping around the tip of his cock. He plunged his hand into the thickness of Sam’s hair and held on for dear life as Sam took him deeper and deeper down his throat. He could feel Sam teasing at his hole at the same time, a finger or two pressing in and out, stretching him gently. Sam’s fingers ended up in his own mouth, teasing at Dean’s cock, making him impossibly harder, gathering up some of the excess saliva and pre-come that was accumulating. Sam used it to push his way inside Dean, opening him up even more, stretching and scissoring in a steady rhythm that matched the actions of his sucking. 

 

Dean pushed Sam away and smiled at the frown Sam made, his lips smacking like it was being denied something essential. “Want to come when you’re in me, Sammy.”

 

Sam groaned and flopped back on the bed covering his eyes with one arm. He still had all of his clothes on, and that was not going to work for what Dean needed to happen next. He stepped around to the foot of the bed and removed Sam’s slip-ons, the ones he hated to wear but boots were impossible during the rehab. By the time he crawled over the footboard and onto the bed, Sam had his jeans undone and pushed down to his knees. Dean pulled them off, careful of his still-healing injury. Sam half-sat up and pulled his shirts over his head. 

 

Dean held back his gasp of amazement. He should be used to it by now. Seeing his brother’s beautiful body shouldn’t be such a surprise, but it still was, even after all these years. Those sculpted abs, the defined torso and veined arms, all hard and powerful and all Sam. His Sam.

 

“Love it that you still look at me that way, Dean,” Sam said, grinning like the love-struck fool Dean knew he also was.

 

“Can it, and get yourself ready, I’m gonna ride you,” Dean said with a laugh, trying not to overreact to Sam’s words. He propped Sam’s injured foot up on the footboard under a bunch of the decorative pillows. Sam had taken the lube and was stroking himself slowly, so hard and ready.

 

Dean pressed some of the lube into himself with a couple of fingers, making sure he was open enough to take all of Sam inside. Sam’s eyes never left Dean’s, Dean almost felt like it was Sam’s hand entering his body, Sam controlling the speed, the depth, the rhythm. But it was just Sam being Sam, putting everything he felt and desired out into the open for Dean to see. All of it there, taking Dean’s breath away as much as Sam’s body ever did. 

 

He shook his head at himself and climbed over Sam, straddling his hips. He held himself open and sank down onto Sam’s cock as slowly and steadily as he could manage. Sam helped by holding his hips in an iron-tight grip. Finally he could sit all the way down on Sam’s thighs and he rested there, spread open as wide as possible, filled completely by his brother. 

 

“Now don’t move your leg too much, okay? Just let me do the work this time,” Dean said, beginning to move his hips in a slow figure-eight motion.

 

Sam groaned and thrust up in little abortive movements. His eyes were gone so dark with want and need, the sweat-dampened hair around his face curling so perfectly. Dean touched him everywhere he could possibly reach, soaking in the softness of his skin, the feel of his straining muscles beneath. He caressed his brother’s face, teased at his nipples until Sam growled.

 

“You’re so damn beautiful like this, Dean,” Sam said, looking up into Dean’s face, holding his eyes. “All mine. Want to watch you while you come.”

 

Dean locked his eyes onto Sam’s and sped up his movements, Sam’s hand surrounded his cock with matching speed. Soon, too soon, he cried out some mess of Sam’s name and a whole lot of other embarrassing shit, all the while coming all over his brother’s stomach and chest.  Sam went wild at that and thrust into him several more times, hard and fast and so perfectly deep. He almost managed to come again along with Sam.

 

A few moments went by and Dean pretty much collapsed over Sam, hands curling into the Sam’s hair, burying his face in it.

“Now that’s the best kind of rehab, I needed that,” Sam said, smiling into Dean’s hair. Dean couldn’t answer, he was too out of it,  and let himself be cleaned up and moved under the covers. He fell into the dark pull of sleep wrapped up in a Sam that finally smelled right again, covered in his scent, the smell of their sex mingled together on their skin. The best sort of lullaby.

 

~~^^&&**&&^^~~

 

“You need to stop braiding my hair when I’m asleep. It’s getting kinda weird, dude,” Sam said, fumbling through his hair to undo the tightly woven braids.

 

Dean blinked himself to a more awake state, propping himself up on one elbow to watch Sam unbraid his hair. “I’m not the one doing that, Sam. I kinda wondered why you were.”

 

“Hold on a second, let me get this straight. You think I’m waking up in the middle of the night and braiding my own hair. Which I have never once braided in my whole life.” Sam said, sounding like he was on the edge of yelling.

 

“Yeah, true, that’s weird. Well, I didn’t think too much about it,” Dean admitted.

 

Sam sat up in bed, back against the wooden headboard. “How long has this been happening?”

 

“A couple times since your surgery? Maybe three? I thought it was from you being on pain meds,” Dean said, sounding unsure, and a little worried.

 

“So it might have to do with the jackacabra bites?” Sam asked.

 

“Why the hell would that make you braid your hair?” Dean asked, beginning to sound a little defensive.

 

“No clue. Could you hand me my laptop? I had some research about some Mexican goblin legends that didn’t fit in with the rest of what I thought we were looking for. I remember there was something about hair.”

 

“Ugh, Sammy, we haven’t even had morning sex or coffee yet,” Dean complained.

 

“C’mon, Dean. This could be important. Maybe the things did follow us here, there was that weird report we read last night.”

 

Dean got up out of bed and stalked over to the table, stark naked and grumbling. Sam enjoyed the view even though Dean’s face said he was more than grumpy. He looked downright disappointed, which meant he’d planned for this to be a real vacation instead of just a diversion from his boredom with rehab. But it seemed like there was something more causing his grumpiness.

 

“I’m sorry this is happening during our vacation, Dean. I know it means a lot to you to finally be here.”

 

“I’ll get over it. Besides it’s your hair, I know it’s your precious,” Dean said, referencing Lord of the Rings in that adorably nerdy way he always had.

 

“No, that’s definitely a who, not a what,” Sam said, teasing his brother.

 

Dean rolled his eyes at Sam’s sappiness and handed over his laptop. Sam grabbed his wrist before he could get away and pulled him down into a kiss that made them both groan with pleasure. 

 

“You are, you know. My precious,” Sam said in his best Gollum imitation. 

 

“And of course you’re my Sam,” Dean teased.

 

“Okay, Frodo, you make us some coffee and I’m going to look into this, see if it’s a curse or what.”

 

Dean didn’t bother to put any clothes on, just in case it might get Sam distracted into some morning sex after all. He did some stretches while the coffee brewed. 

 

Sam of course noticed his brother’s preening, it was kind of hard not to, even in this huge room. So he whistled and wiggled his eyebrows as he scanned through his research. That seemed to work, because Dean brought him a cup of coffee and settled down next to him in the bed.

 

“It’s probably one of these goblin things, either El Sombrerón or Tzizimite. Now that I’m looking at it, a lot of the regions in Mexico have a similar one. Their big thing is messing with people’s hair. All the vics had long hair at least as long as mine. But I don’t see how the jackacabras are related. The description’s all wrong.”

 

“There any way to kill them?” Dean asked.

 

“No, they seem to be like devas almost, regional spirits, or place spirits that don’t ever go away. Seems like they don’t enjoy holy water much but it doesn’t kill them. They’ll leave you alone if you cut your hair, or move out of their area.”

 

“Well, I know which option I’m picking,” Dean said, running his hand through Sam’s hair.  Sam shivered as usual when Dean’s fingers scratched along the nape of his neck. He still loved it when Dean played with his hair.

 

“Did those things follow us, Dean? We didn’t go back and burn the bodies, so it is possible, right?”

 

“I don’t think so. Their brains were pretty much goo all over the ground,” Dean said, recalling the gory scene.

 

“We have seen some things come back from a brain shot like that though,” Sam said.

 

“Maybe there are just a bunch of these new things in the area? Or they’ve always been here and are just riled up for some reason.”

 

“I guess we should contact the vics we have phone numbers for, ask them if they’re experiencing the free night-time braiding service,” Sam suggested. “Can you hand me my notebook, out of my backpack?”

 

Dean grumbled something about not even getting to see the damn view they’d paid for and brought the notebook and a pen back to the bed for Sam, as well as his cell phone. He plugged the charger in to the base of the lamp and sat on the bed by Sam’s hip.

 

“I’m gonna go shower, and then pick us up some breakfast,” Dean said, sounding a little sad that working was happening instead of sex or vacationing.

 

“I’ll come with you, I just realized it’s way too early to call people,” Sam said. He struggled up out of bed and crutched into the bathroom. It wasn’t huge, but was an updated version of a cabin sized bathroom. Luckily the tub was large enough for both of them to shower in. “Are you getting in here with me or what?”

 

Dean was in the shower in mere seconds as if he’d been waiting for the word to jump in. Sam crowded him up against the tile wall until Dean hissed at the cold. Sam aimed the shower water over Dean’s shoulder so it warmed him up. Sam’s big hands were everywhere, all at once, pulling Dean’s head back so Sam could suck dark marks into his neck, scratching through his hair along with shampoo and then finally teasing their way down to his hard, neglected cock.  He wrapped one hand around both of them together, with a little shower gel for slickness and stroked them off in that familiar pattern that never ever got old for Dean. He added his own hand for extra friction and bit Sam’s shoulder hard as he came. Both of their releases swirled down the drain and Dean let himself rest against Sam’s wide chest. He felt so good here, so safe, and far away from all the stuff they were supposed to be worrying about.

 

“You okay?” Sam asked.

 

“Yeah, I’m good. No, I’m great, we’re at the Grand Canyon, Sammy.”

 

Sam laughed at his brother’s expressiveness.

 

They were shaved and dressed and then seated in the coffee shop in just a few minutes. Dean had a stack of the local newspaper as well as the ones from Flagstaff and Sedona for them to look at while they waited for their waffles and eggs.

 

“I’m not finding anything in either of these papers,” Dean said, folding the last pages up and setting them off to the side of his now empty coffee cup. He searched around for their server, but she seemed to be swamped with the now-filled coffee shop.

 

“I’ve got something here, maybe. It’s a jackalope sighting, not far from here, near the entrance station, just last night,” Sam said, handing Dean the paper across the table. He picked up his coffee cup and noticed it was empty. He caught their server’s eye and she hurried over with the coffee carafe. 

 

“Your orders will be up soon gentlemen,” she said as she poured their refills.

 

“Say, uh, Doris. We were just reading in the local paper about this jackalope thing someone saw last night. You ever seen one of those yourself?” Dean asked, turning on the charm that usually worked on diner waitresses.

 

Doris rolled her eyes at him and made a scoffing noise. “Nah, that’s a tourist thing, hon. I’ll go check on those waffles for ya.”

 

“Well you tried,” Sam said with a small chuckle while he added cream and sugar to his coffee.

 

“I was thinking about the hair thing. I noticed that this morning there were a few more braids than last time. Seemed like about ten more.”

 

Sam didn’t say anything, just drank his coffee and ran one hand through his damp hair, separating the strands between his fingers.

 

“So somehow during the night, your hair is getting tightly braided into increasingly smaller braids, all without either of us noticing. How the hell are you sleeping through that, Sammy? Or me either? You’d think one of us would wake up during the time it takes to get all that hair of yours braided,” Dean said.

 

“It’s got to have some kind of power to keep us asleep. Because there’s no way I’d sleep through that, you know how sensitive my scalp is,” Sam said.

 

“Oh yeah, I do know that,” Dean said in a sultry tone waggling his eyebrows. Of course that was when Doris reappeared with their plates of waffles. She looked from one to the other of them and shrugged liked she wasn’t surprised.

 

~~^^&&**&&^^~~ 

 

They got re-situated in the room and both started making phone calls from Sam’s list. Of the three they could reach, all of them confirmed the hair braiding was happening to them. Not every night, but enough to be noticeable. They compared notes and Sam came to the conclusion that he should have brought more books from the Men of Letters library with them. 

 

Dean stared longingly out their front window at the view, wondering if it had even been worth it to drag his brother up here if he wasn’t even going to get to see any of this.

 

“Why don’t you go for a walk. I feel bad that you’re finally here and you haven’t even seen the thing yet,” Sam said, buried in the research spread out around him on the bed. “I should have something in like an hour or so,” Sam said, turning back to his work.

 

“I wanted to, but I don’t feel right leaving you with all this,” Dean said. What he really wanted to say was that he didn’t want to see the canyon for the first time without Sam by his side. That was how he’d always pictured it, the both of them standing at the canyon’s edge, arms wrapped around each other, marveling at the sight. And he also had his other plan to carry out. That’s probably where more of the antsy feeling was coming from really. But he couldn’t spoil that surprise, not quite yet. 

 

Sam didn’t answer him, or maybe he didn’t hear him. Dean sat on the leather couch for a while, staring at the blue sky through the window, watching the tourists’ heads bobbing as they passed by on the paved pathway between their cabin’s door and the wall at the edge of the canyon. He needed to get out and walk around, but he wasn’t going to go out there without Sam. Not yet.

 

“Sam, I’m going for a walk,” Dean said, heading out their back door, he heard Sam say something behind him, it didn’t sound like stop or don’t go, so he kept going through the short hallway to the gift shop. He bought Sam an I-Caught-A-Jackalope embroidered beanie that he thought would be perfect. He poked around the lobby of the lodge and found a small museum room filled with all sorts of Grand Canyon history. He was looking through the field journals of Buckey O’Neill when he noticed a small drawing of an animal that looked eerily close to the things that had attacked them in Sedona. He snapped a picture with his cell phone to show Sam.

 

“No pictures are allowed sir,” a stern voice said.

 

Dean turned around, searching for the source of the voice. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. I just wanted to show this to my partner, he collects jackalope pictures and I’ve never seen one like this.”

 

A small man approached him from behind a display, his feet oddly shaped so that his legs moved very strangely, almost as if he had his feet on backwards. He moved quickly though, and stood in front of Dean peering up at him from under the brim of a large black hat. His thick black mustache twitched as he seemed to take in Dean’s scent. “You are interested in such things?”

 

“Well, yeah, I guess. Like I said my partner is obsessed with jackalope or whatever they’re called.”

 

“Shzzt!” the man barked, surprising Dean into silence. “Your lies are of no currency here. But I know you do want to know more than what a picture can show you.”

 

“I do, you’re right. I apologize for lying. It’s just…well, my brother, he was bitten by one of these things a couple weeks ago, down in Sedona. And he’s…well he’s doing better after surgery, but there’s something strange happening to him now.”

 

“Stranger than being bitten by a mythical beast?” the man asked.

 

“Yeah, see he’s got this long mess of hair, and almost every morning he wakes up with it braided.”

 

“This is a problem for him?” 

 

“It is. Because he’s not the one doing the braiding, and neither am I. And it’s creepy and he doesn’t feel safe sleeping now,” Dean said.

 

“The creatures are different from this picture, correct?” the man asked, pointing at the book between them.

 

“Yes, they had that face, with the antlers and very sharp teeth. But the body was more like a goat.”

 

“I know these beasts. They were not meant to harm, only to make a mark that the Tzizimite can follow. Their venom shines like a beacon that draws him. He is the spirit of this place, and he has been greatly disturbed by the building in Sedona.”

 

“We noticed that, seemed like there were way too many condo developments and resort hotels. So this Tzizimite is disturbed and sent the creatures after hikers?”

 

“Yes, but not to harm, only to mark. Those with the long hair that he covets. These creatures were a new form he created, and may have been too strong. They had to be to travel the distances people roam now.”

 

“Would Tzizimite ever stop?”

 

“If he was freely given a gift he would,” the man said solemnly, “but that has not happened in a very long time.”

 

“What sort of gift? I’m guessing something hair-related, right?” Dean asked.

 

The man smiled for the first time, his teeth were shockingly yellow and as pointy as the jackacabras had been. His eyes with flashed with what looked like greed or anticipation. “A gift from one who has been marked. A gift of what is coveted.”

 

“Wait, hold on. You mean it wants Sam’s hair? All of it?”

 

“No, not all of his hair. But the best portion,” the man said with a slightly wheedling tone.

 

“How would we give it to him?”

 

“Leave it out near where he sleeps tonight. Braid it in the traditional manner. If it pleases him, he will take it and leave your Sam alone.”

 

“Will he control the creatures he made?”

 

“When he is satisfied, they will disappear until they are required once again.”

 

“How do you know all this?”

 

“That is not a question I can answer to your satisfaction, Dean Winchester.”

 

“How do you know my name?” Dean asked, suspicious that the man was not just a museum worker with a love of local folklore.

 

The man shook his head as well as his forefinger at Dean, and made the same  sound again, “Shzzt!” backing up until he disappeared behind the display again.

 

Dean stepped forward to ask him again, but he had vanished. He searched until there wasn’t anywhere left to look in the museum. He decided to take what he’d learned back to Sam. As he walked back to the cabin he went over all the details in his mind that the man had shared with him. It seemed crucial that some of the words he used be communicated to Sam so that he could do this gifting thing the right way. So that it would work.

~~^^&&**&&^^~~

 


	3. Chapter 3

~~^^&&**&&^^~~

Dean found Sam curled up asleep in the middle of the bed surrounded by all the research papers. He moved some of the papers and situated himself behind Sam nuzzling into the back of his neck, breathing his brother in. He was out like a light almost immediately, something about Sam’s even breathing, the quiet of the cabin, the comfort of the bed. But they got to have a good long nap together. He came back to himself when Sam was trying to struggle up out of bed and reach his crutches by hopping on one foot holding onto the foot of the bed.

“You would not make a good rabbit,” Dean said, stretching his whole body out and relaxing. 

“Well, I’m pretty sure that’s not part of this curse or whatever it is.”

“I met a guy, in the museum. He knew a lot about the things that bit you and about the Tzizimite too.” Dean said. He dug out his phone and pulled up the photo from the O’Neill journal. “And the dude who this cabin is named for, they had his nature journals on display, look what he drew in one of them.”

Sam let go of one of the crutches and reached out for Dean’s phone, he examined the picture and whistled in approval. “That’s a really good find, Dean. Tell me more about this guy you met.”

Dean repeated the whole story of the encounter and by the end of their discussion, they agreed that it was pretty likely that the guy in the museum was the Tzizimite himself or someone who was associated with him somehow.

“So we need to cut my hair, huh?”

“But not all of it. He said it had to be ‘the best portion.’”

“I think that means the majority of it though,” Sam said. 

“I guess. I’m sorry about all this, wish it was my hair we had to cut.”

“Will you do it for me?” Sam asked, sounding about ten years old and full of sadness.

Dean nodded and ducked out of the room before he started crying or something, just seeing Sam’s stricken face almost made him lose it. It was just hair, but it was such a big part of what made Sam, Sam. He reminded himself that it wasn’t Sam though, just a part, that was replaceable. And Sam sure as hell wasn’t. 

When he got back to the cabin with the med kit from the car, Sam had somehow dragged one of the chairs into the bathroom and was sitting in it with a towel around his shoulders. His eyes were closed but red and puffy.

Dean leaned down and kissed his brother softly, running his hands through Sam’s glorious hair one last time. “I’m really sorry, Sammy,” Dean said as he took the first snip of hair and laid it on the counter. “But it’ll grow back, it’s replaceable. You’re not.”

Sam smiled up at him then, bright as the sun reflected in from the windows. He held Dean around the neck and kissed him back for a long time, as Dean continued to play with his hair. Finally they parted and Sam released him with a small nod.

The scissors from the med kit worked perfectly for the hair cut as they always had. They were nice and sharp for cutting bandage gauze. Dean had been cutting his brother’s hair for his whole life with these scissors. Pretty soon the shining locks were laid out in a neat bundle on the bathroom counter. 

Sam stood up from the chair and shook the towel off his shoulders. He stared at himself in the mirror and grimaced. Dean left his side for a moment and returned with a rustling plastic bag.

“Got you something,” Dean said, handing Sam a bag printed with ‘Grand Canyon Gifts.’

Sam pulled out the embroidered beanie and read what it said. He laughed and scrunched the thing down onto his head. Dean stepped up behind him and kissed the back of his bare neck.

“See, now I can do this,” Dean said, “whenever I want to.”

Sam shivered and then sighed, but still didn’t say anything.

“Sammy, c’mon we gotta figure out what to do with all this hair, right?” Dean asked, trying to get Sam out of his funk.

Sam nodded and crutched back over to his laptop on the bed, he settled in and looked up ‘braided in the traditional manner’ of such a gift. Dean rambled around the cabin for a while, admiring the rough-hewn log walls and the cleverly inset windows, finally he gave up and laid down on the leather couch, and looked out the window at the cloudless sky.

“So get this, we have to make something that looks like this thing,” Sam said, turning the laptop screen around so Dean could see it from across the room.

Dean looked at the fancy, intricate braid and shook his head, knowing they’d never be able to figure out that kind of thing in time for tonight. “I have no idea how to do something like that. But I saw one kind of similar in the gift shop, think it was horse-hair.”

“Can we go get some lunch? I’m starved,” Sam said, hoisting himself up off the bed and slipping back into his shoes. 

Dean looked his brother over, standing tall even hunched over for the crutches, beanie pulled down over his ears.  He stepped into Sam’s space and readjusted the beanie so that the bottom of Sam’s hair could curl out from the bottom of the hat.  “You look good, Sammy.” Dean leaned up and kissed him so Sam couldn’t refuse the praise.

After a short lunch in the diner, Dean showed Sam the horse-hair ropes for sale in the gift shop and they chose one that looked the closest to the one in the picture on the internet.  Dean held it up to the side of Sam’s head and verified the color was fairly close to Sam’s hair.

They spent the rest of the afternoon and evening working all of Sam’s hair into the existing braid, taking turns handling the hair and the braid. It was frustrating work and Dean took several breaks to get the whisky bottle from the car and some take-out dinner from the diner. 

After they curled the braid up and left it next to Sam’s pillow on the bed they saluted each other with a last tumbler of whisky.

“Here’s hoping for the best,” Dean said. Sam raised his glass in response and clinked it to Dean’s.

When they went to bed that night, Sam still had the beanie on, and Dean ran his hand over it, pulling it off slowly. Sam closed his eyes tightly, his lips in a straight line like he was trying to deny all of it.

Dean searched his mind for something to say and came up blank, he didn’t want to make it worse. He settled for running his hand through Sam’s short hair, scratching his nails in all the places that normally relaxed Sam enough to sleep. A small smile finally appeared on Sam’s face, and his eyes opened, searching Dean’s. He closed them again and drifted off to sleep.  Dean set the beanie on the bedside table and curled himself into Sam’s side, holding him close.

~~^^&&**&&^^~~ 

Sam was awakened  as the Tzizimite was removing the hair rope from next to his pillow. 

“So this is goodbye then?” Sam asked, surprised that the thing had allowed him to be awake this time.

“Unless you’d like me to braid your hair one last time,” the small man said with an eerily wide sharp-toothed grin.

“Don’t have enough to braid anymore, it’s all in your gift there,” Sam said pointing at the rope that the man held in his delicate hands.

“I thank you for your gift, Sam Winchester. One of the finest I’ve ever received, hair coated in an angel’s grace is a prize I never knew I sought. Consider yourself unmarked and blessed,” the man bowed deeply to Sam and left without opening a door.

Sam woke Dean up then, even though the sun was barely on the rise. “Dean, he’s gone. I’m okay now.”

~~^^&&**&&^^~~

“So, you still wanna go see it?” Dean asked when Sam joined him in the bathroom after situating his crutches just outside the doorway. “Sunrise is gonna happen soon. It’s supposed to be the best way to see it for the first time.”

“What, the Grand Canyon? Hell yeah, we deserve it after all of this, I feel like a total idiot that I haven’t even gone out there to look,” Sam answered, re-adjusting his I-Caught-A-Jackalope embroidered beanie that Dean had bought him at the gift shop yesterday. He had lost a lot of hair to the Tzizimite, and it was enough of a change that he felt self-conscious and a little cold. The beanie helped with both things.

“Good, I never got a chance to push you around in the wheelchair,” Dean said.

“You haven’t recently taken a big life insurance policy out on me, right?” Sam teased.

“Now why didn’t I think of that? You’ve been watching too much, ‘Murder She Wrote,'” Dean snarked back. He dashed out to the car and wrestled the wheelchair out of the trunk. He brought it around to where Sam was waiting just outside their cabin. Sam hopped into the wheelchair, handing the crutches to Dean. He found a place to clip them onto the back of the chair. He pushed Sam along the paved trail to the nearest lookout spot. 

“Now I see why they call it the Grand Canyon,” Sam said. The sun rose a little higher as they watched together. Sam felt Dean’s hand on his shoulder and reached up to hold it. 

“Like I said, spectacular,” Dean said, kneeling next to Sam’s chair and looking at him seriously.

“Dean, you’re missing the sunrise,” Sam said, peeking at Dean sideways.

“I’m watching it reflected in your eyes,” Dean said.

“Cut it out and quite staring at me,” Sam responded, eyes darting between his brother’s still serious face and the spectacular view.

“Hey…uh, Sammy, can I ask you something?” Dean said, rummaging in his jacket pocket.

“Of course.” Sam glanced over to see an utterly terrified look on his brother’s face. “God, Dean, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing…nothing’s wrong. I just want to ask you to wear this,” Dean said, holding out a small velvet box.

Sam accepted the box from him and opened it. A silver ring, carved with runes and one inset diamond winked back at him with the reflected sunlight. Sam closed the box with a loud snap and handed it back to Dean. 

Dean’s face fell and he started to put the box away in his jacket.

“Dean, stop, please. That’s not what I…I just wanted to be able to see you and I didn’t want to drop it,” Sam said, turning in the chair to be able to see Dean, desperate to stop his brother from jumping to the opposite conclusion. “Can you…can you put it on me? Please?” Sam asked, holding out his left hand.

The only way to describe Dean’s reaction was to use the word blooming. The joy burst forth on his face and moved through his whole body. He got the ring out of the box and onto Sam’s finger in just a few quick moments as if he was worried Sam would change his mind if he took too long. Sam held his hand out so both of them could see it, with the backdrop of the sunlight drenched canyon. “Thanks, Dean, I love it.”

“I’m sorry it took so long for us to get here, Sammy.”

“You mean to the Grand Canyon?” Sam asked, even though he knew what Dean meant. He just wanted to see if his brother would say it out loud.

Dean shook his head and laughed. “No, to here, right here. You and me, like this.” 

“It’s been a journey, hasn’t it? I’m not sorry though, it took as long as it needed to. The point is we got here eventually.”

~FIN~


End file.
